


Bleak House

by Lisafer



Series: The Dickens Arc [11]
Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Forum: Goldenlake, Offscreen character death, multi-gen romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a prequel to “Great Expectations”, taking place several weeks before that story.   Wyldon comes home to find a barely consolable wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleak House

They had been married a year and a half, but Wyldon felt like it had been only six months, with all the time they had been separated by their duties. He spent his time between Cavall and Corus, working on specific military issues directly with the king; his role was advisory now, with occasional trips to the borders. Since the war with Scanra ended, four years prior, there was less active duty for knights. But Kel was always sent on border patrol, or assigned to brief periods at the northern forts, where a small garrison was kept at all times due to the renegade Scanrans and bandits that attacked both the forts and the various northern towns. 

Upon stabling his mount, Wyldon saw that Peachblossom was gone. He sighed; he had not seen Kel in two months. He hoped that she would be home soon. She was capable, like no other person was, to ease his mind and relax him. Upon marriage he had found that their domestic life together – whenever possible – suited him well. She was a lover and a comrade, and he enjoyed spending time with her, whether it was deciding how to solve a village dispute or tilting against one another for practice.

Since she was not home, however, he opted to wash off the grime from the road. Spring had finally come to Tortall, and that meant plenty of mud. He walked wearily into the keep and wondered – since when had a long days’ ride taken such a toll on him? 

The bathroom was his favorite part of the Cavall keep. The bathtub was large and set into the floor – like the palace’s public baths – and the tiles had been spelled by mages to keep the water hot for long periods of time. There was little better than a hot soak to relieve him of any aches.

But he was surprised when he opened the door: Kel was there, sitting somberly at one end of the deep tub. Her knees were raised, and her chin rested on them glumly.

“Keladry?” he asked, confused. “I thought—”

“You’re home,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. She sounded relieved, though her expression was troubled.

He kneeled beside the warm tile tub, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and kissing her. “What’s wrong?”

“Peachblossom,” she said, her voice thick. “He… he died.” She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her legs. 

“When?”

“Yesterday.” Her voice was flat.

He had no words of comfort for her; he knew how much she cared for her ornery companion. He stroked her hair gently. “He was an older horse, Keladry.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. 

At one point in time, Wyldon had thought that Kel was the sort of person who buried her feelings deep within her, so she could keep the rest of the world from getting the better of her. But it did not take long for him to realize that her emotions were immediately beneath the surface. She was one of the most passionate people he had ever met, and any person – or animal – in her care was someone she would protect with that passion. 

“Please come in here with me,” she said, her eyes pleading. 

He undressed quickly and climbed into the oversized tub; Kel moved so he could settle behind her, and she leaned back against him. He wrapped his arms around her and was glad to feel some of the tension leave her shoulders and neck.

“He chose me,” she whispered. “Daine offered to buy him from me, when the new horses arrived for the pages. But Peachblossom told her that I needed someone to look out for me.”

“He was a fantastic horse,” Wyldon said, his voice low. “I thought he’d been ruined, but you managed to turn him into someone who would behave – well, generally – and listen to you. I rarely get to see knights who understand their mounts so well.”

“ _He_ understood _me_ ,” Kel said with a sigh, leaning against him. “Make love to me, Wyldon.”

“Right now?”

She sat up again, turning to face him. “I want to feel something other than misery.”

He didn’t like her expression. She wasn’t hiding her emotions, but she looked worn out. Emotionally drained. She could ask anything of him – let alone something he wanted – and he would do it, just to erase that look from her face. 

He kissed her neck; it was one of her weak spots, he had learned in their years together. His lips trailed down to her collar bone as she shifted to accommodate his actions. He registered, momentarily, that she wasn’t wearing her usual necklace. The significance was lost on him, however, when she began to touch him. Their lovemaking was swift and intense; it had been far too long since they had been together. 

“I’ve missed you,” Kel said afterward, stretching out beside him in the bath. 

“I know,” he said, pushing her damp hair behind her ear. He put one arm around her shoulder, holding her close to him as they soaked together in the warm water. “I’m sorry I can’t make your pain go away.” It was nonsense to try to wish away the suffering of another human, but he couldn’t help but do so. He hoped that maybe the gods listened to him, and found mercy to grant this one desire.

“Your being here makes me feel better, though.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I have to find another warhorse,” she said after a long pause, reluctance in her voice.

He examined her shrewdly. “I think I have one in mind for you. He won’t be anything like Peachblossom, but I’d wager that you will still like him.”

“The Cavall horses are the best in Tortall,” Kel said, staring straight ahead. “I’d be grateful to ride one.”

He kissed the top of her head. “He’s not fussy – he’s just like you. Powerful and reliable.”

“You’re the reliable one,” Kel said, climbing out of the bathtub and wrapping a large towel around herself. “And I love you for it.” She left the room, still leaving her clothing in a pile next to his.

Wyldon levered himself out of the tub and dried off quickly, then picked up their clothes. He didn’t notice the broken gold chain that slipped from her shirt, where it had been tangled in the buttons, nor the Goddess charm that fell to the floor with a light clinking noise.

**Author's Note:**

> Another Wyldon Winter tribute for Goldenlake's second annual event.


End file.
